


Let the Record Show

by Vic Talladira (marked318)



Category: Star Wars: Rebellion Era - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Really not kidding about that trigger warning., Shell Shock / PTSD, Stormtrooper Culture, War is hell, morality swap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-17
Updated: 2016-11-17
Packaged: 2018-08-31 12:46:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8579131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marked318/pseuds/Vic%20Talladira
Summary: Imperial Lieutenant Derrina is debriefed after a mission failure. Probably just a oneshot."Write about a battle between Stormtroopers and Rebels from the viewpoint of the Stormtroopers. Try to emphasize the brotherhood between individual stormtroopers and how they aren't lifeless like we might think they are." Thank you, /r/WritingPrompts.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Admittedly, I played pretty fast and loose with the timeline on this one. 4 ABY is technically the death of the Galactic Empire, but the narrative suggests the war is in full swing (so I guess it could be some time that galactic year, but before Endor). This is not Star Wars in the light and diametric sense of the universe; this is the potential horror of weapons that use plasma and cohesive light, told from the perspective of who we think of as the bad guys. I recommend listening to some Sabaton as you read this: they have a way of stripping away the politics of war and showing the courage and humanity on both sides of the battle line, and I tried to capture some element of that with this piece- while also showing the inverse, that there are no "good guys" in war, just whoever is most willing and best at doing wrong to the other side. Whether they're heroes or villains depends on which flag you're standing under.

“State your designation for the official record, Lieutenant.”

Raxxis. Of course it was Commander Raxxis in charge of the debriefing. The Third Reconnaissance Battalion was her brain child, and she held it to even more exacting standards than Imperial Command held her. She had to. This wasn't personal- not against me, anyway.

“T-X-M-Three-Eight, Commander.”

“And your name?”

“Derrina, Taryc, Commander.” Eyes straight forward, unflinching. She had to chew me up and spit me back out; the least I could do was take it like I was worth my commission.

“I'll speak plainly, Lieutenant: what in the seven blue hells of Athin happened down there?”

I blink, she seizes on it, I can tell. Hesitation. That cold, perfectly sculpted face, the high cheekbones. Alderaani, probably even more desperate to prove her worth after Tarkin cooked her planet, four years ago. Her eyes dart across my armor, can see the scorch marks, the blood. They grabbed me before I could hit the armory and detail my kit.

“My assessment: poor intel, sir.” She insisted on that last detail, as part of “welcoming” anyone to the battalion. Strictest of protocol, to the very letter; she was “sir” or “Commander” or “Commander Raxxis,” never “ma'am.”

Space help anyone who knew her first name and made _that_ mistake.

“Elaborate.” It almost sounds like curiosity, rather than condemnation. She knew it was a rout.

“Sir- rebel forces had advance notice of our movements. They deployed land mines-”

_Fixer, laying in the dirt, shrieking as defensive blaster fire snapped over our heads. He's trying to peel at his armor before it fuses to his leg, but the rebels packed this thing for maximum terror effect. Incendiary gel, wide dispersal. I know the rest of his fireteam are dead; they caught the gel to their helmets, sucked it into their respirators, stuck to their collars. No coming back from that._

_No saving the leg. The armor is already deforming, bubbling under the heat, grafting to his shin, his thigh. Of course the medic loses his damned leg-_

“-that cost us the platoon medical sergeant, among other casualties. We took heavy fire-”

_The first interdiction team crumbles when I chew through their palisade with my flechette launcher. Inbound fire drops off. Eleven of our forty are dead from a twenty-second firefight, and another six are wounded. Fixer's catatonic- shock, popped a capsule to numb himself as the armor cooked the rest of the way into his leg. He said the good news was it was a self-cauterizing wound._

_“Set up a collection point for the wounded; one squad provides security until the shuttle touches dirt.” The men scramble, dragging the wounded out of the freshly-cold kill zone. I reach for my comm pack- realize it took a bolt in the first volley._

_Should have been dead._

“-and were without functioning sat-comm, sir. No way to call for retrieval, reinforcement, or fire mission.”

She stares from beneath heavy-lidded eyes- unconcerned, but not hostile. This condemnation is part of the job.

“Your platoon was still above half-strength, Lieutenant. Protocol is clear. You were at greater than one-quarter strength, and you were to press the attack.”

“Yes, sir. With respect to the Commander- we did.”

_Arland's head, coming apart like a melon as a bowcaster bolt shears through his helmet like a sheet of flimsy. His body twitched, twisted, jerked, sustaining fire on his heavy repeater for a full second before the message cleared: central operating system down, body terminates. The corpses were piled thick around him, more white armor splashed with blackened holes. We were supposed to be invincible, fearless._

_The whole platoon had been cut to ribbons. This was on me. My boys- pieces of them, scattered from grenades and disruptor bolts. Rebel scum didn't care about galactic weapon sanctions, rules of engagement. Didn't care what a disruptor did on a grazing hit, what it felt like to have your molecular structure broken down. Sa'Voss did. He didn't know what happened at first, thought he dodged the shot._

“They had superior command of the terrain, from which they launched pincer maneuvers while volleying sniper fire-”

_Sa'Voss didn't dodge. It just clipped him. Took him a minute to realize he just... wasn't there, anymore. The body isn't meant to function without an abdominal wall. Those beams don't care about armor, lanced right through it, scrambled him into oblivion._

_I swear, it felt so_ good _to rip that tree down with a couple shredder canisters. I knew where that sniper was. Dropped him right on top of his friends. Took position on top of their bodies._

_Arland would've done it._

“We repelled their- their counteroffensive, sir.” I realize I'm shaking, breath is catching. I'm back on that moon again. Not aboard the _Jormungand._

_I died on that moon. I know I did._

_So many of my boys did._

_I must have._

“Platoon was reduced to twelve men by the end of the engagement outside their compound, sir.”

_I took my time with that sniper. Asked him if he was proud of what he'd done, if any of it mattered with his leg trapped under that tree. I left him for the acklay._

_Sa'Voss would have gotten a kick out of that. He hated those bugs even more than he hated rodians. Would have said those two were meant for each other._

“By definition, your orders still stood, Lieutenant.”

“Yes, Commander. I did not consider us combat-effective at that time.”

“You're aware that you have admitted to insubordination, Lieutenant?”

Yes, Commander Raxxis. It was me. It wasn't Talavi, begging to fall back to the exfil site. It wasn't Aris, trying to put Sa'Voss' insides back inside, those twisted up sobs cutting through our commlink as the realization set in that his one remaining battle buddy from the Academy just got unpacked by a damned rebel sniper.

Aris was Alderaani, too.

Funny how a bunch of pacifists were the hardest operators I knew.

“Sir, yes sir. I personally scouted the compound. There was an entire company waiting in reserve, marshalling up to patrol the jungle and sweep us out. Tubolaser batteries on point defense, with our sole missile launcher inoperable. It would have been suicide, sir, with no effect on target. I scrubbed the mission.”

No one who didn't know the Commander would have caught it. That faint tic at the corner of her mouth, the momentary crinkle of her eyes. She knew I was right. She didn't want to do this.

“Lieutenant Derrina, you are to report to the detention block until such a time as tribunal can be called to evaluate your actions. You stand relieved of command.”

There was no ranking stripe to take my commission. Whole platoon, what was left, would be gone when I got out. If I got out. Medical sergeant- Fixer- was dead, shock set in a few seconds after he numbed up. Weapons sergeant- Ice, damn you Arland and your stupid callsign- was dead, and that Wookiee was nowhere to be found among the enemy dead. Senior engineer- Lo, we called him Red- was in seventeen pieces, dead as they come. First squad was my repsonsibility.

Bad intel. That's what I called it.


End file.
